


From the Ball to the Stall

by fyreyantics



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Omorashi, Public Toilets, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22902364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyreyantics/pseuds/fyreyantics
Summary: On the onset of attending yet another charity gala, Tony decides to make it a bit more interesting for Peter.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Kudos: 127





	From the Ball to the Stall

**Author's Note:**

> Someone once told that it isn't going outside of your comfort zone, it's expanding your comfort zone.
> 
> This feels like it's outside my comfort zone. But I still wrote it. /shrug

Peter examined himself in the mirror, turning his head now and then to see himself from a new angle. He ran his palm over his gelled-back hair, checked for any stray strands, then straightened up tall. With an uncertain expression, he fiddled with his bowtie.

Peter didn't particularly like these events - galas, balls, whatever. They were all the same. He had to dress in the same stiff and impractical clothing - every aspect required to be neat and exact and shiny - all the while expected to walk around being friendly and polite and acting interested in the immeasurable amount of small talk he'd have to stand by listening to.

At least he had Tony. He never failed to be effortlessly charming. His boyfriend appeared at ease in situations where Peter just wanted to edge out of the room and make a run for it. Tony always knew what to say, when to laugh, how to deflect and be diplomatic. It was true that Tony had a lifetime of experience but it emphasised the difference between them. Peter felt like he was a socially awkward high schooler again, and Tony...Tony seemed like the unreachable billionaire superhero Peter looked up to when he was younger.

"Limo's here," Tony called out from the lounge of the penthouse, startling Peter from his thoughts.

Peter quickly brushed along the arms of his suit jacket and gave himself a determined look in the mirror. He could do this. 

He turned and made his way through the bedroom.

"I might go to the bathroom first," Peter called out, reaching the open doorway. He stopped. 

It didn’t matter how many of these they had been to together - seeing Tony dressed up took his breath away.

The black tuxedo fitted him perfectly - and not just his body. Paired with an easy breath-taking confidence Tony held, Tony took to it like a second skin. Peter couldn’t help but let his eyes trail over every inch, drinking the sight. Unconsciously he wet his lips, thoughts wandering where they shouldn’t - at least not now.

Tony gave him an amused look like he knew exactly what was on Peter’s mind. "You know, I think you can probably hold it in," Tony then said casually, derailing Peter’s thoughts. He stood up, straightening his cufflinks. 

Peter paused. "What?"

"You don’t need to go right now, do you? Come on, we'll be late." Tony shot Peter a wink. There was a glint in his eye and Peter caught his meaning. This wasn’t something new - it was a game they played every now and then - but never at an event like this. Never somewhere so public, filled with some of the most powerful people in the world - and potentially a recipe for disaster . Instead of being put off, a swell of excitement flourished in Peter’s chest.

"No, I can wait," Peter replied.

Tony grinned. "Then let's go." 

Chatter filled the room in a low steady hum, peaking occasionally with peals of laughter. A large high-ceilinged room had been taken over by the wealthy, dressed in their finest while a string quartet played an expressive and expansive piece, adding to the sophisticated air of the event. 

Peter stayed by Tony’s side as they did the rounds. Peter didn't say much. He didn't have much to say in the first place but there was something else on his mind. Already the pressure was starting to build on his bladder.

A waiter came around with a silver tray in hand and offered glasses of champagne. Tony took two and held one out for Peter. Peter shot him a disbelieving look. Drinking was the last thing he wanted to do with his bladder this full.

"Sweetheart, it's Louis Roederer," Tony said to Peter. When Peter didn’t look swayed, Tony continued, “It’s your favourite, remember?”

Others were watching the exchange so Peter smiled weakly and took the glass.

"Drink it all for me," Tony murmured in Peter's ear, his voice low and dark, sending a shiver down Peter's spine. 

As they wandered from conversation, Peter took bigger sips. His body strongly protested - giving him with intense jolts of awareness of how full his bladder was.

Peter tried to keep his composure. He kept up his polite smiles even as the strain grew, clenching his teeth to try and assuage the tension. His control over the situation was quickly failing and it was taking Peter everything he had not to squeeze his thighs together and clasp his groin. People kept coming up to Tony as soon as one conversation ended leaving Peter with no opportunity to tell Tony how much of an effort it was, that he needed to go so so bad and he was going to wet himself in his stupidly perfect tuxedo the middle of the gala if something wasn’t done about it soon.

Peter’s hand clasped onto Tony’s arm in a vice-like grip. He stopped caring about being polite and just tilted up to speak into Tony’s ear.

"I need to go," Peter whispered, voice wavering.

"Excuse us a moment,” Tony said, all smiles as he led Peter further away from the group he’d been speaking with. He spoke once out of earshot. “Come on, Peter, I really should talk to Paul over there. He made a lot of good points about some of our business handlings overseas. You should see the land we managed to get for our new factory in Japan -"

"Please, Tony. I really, really need to, please.” Peter looked around to see if anyone was watching or listening. He bit his fist while he waited for Tony to speak - which felt like an eternity.

"Alright,” Tony conceded, “Let's go."

Tony led him Peter out of the room, weaving their way around the other guests. Anticipation built in Peter's chest, his body readying for release. He could barely wait - he’d finally get to let go. He could imagine the blissful feeling. A small amount of piss eked out before he could stop it, his cheeks flushing, and he followed Tony into the men’s bathroom. A few men were pissing at the urinals - the sound making Peter tremble with effort to control himself. Peter stepped towards them but Tony tugged him off to the side and to the toilet cubicles at the far side of the room, a reasonable distance from both the urinals and the exit. They entered one together, Peter jiggling his leg in excitement.

"Thank you, Tony, I -" he made to get passed Tony to get to the toilet but Tony stood in his way. Peter gave him a look of confusion that turned to panic.

“What are you - Tony, I need to go, I’m serious, I can’t -”

He heard a tap turned and the rush of water pouring down, splashing as someone washed their hands beneath it. Peter covered his mouth to hold back a whimper and gripped his cock, but not before another small amount of piss left him.

"Get on your knees," Tony whispered impassively.

Peter looked at him in desperate confusion. "Wh-what?"

"Get on your knees, and I’ll let you get past."

Peter hesitated barely a second - he’d do anything Tony said just as long as he could get to the toilet soon - and sank down onto his knees. He watched as Tony’s fingers began to unclasp his belt. Peter had been far too distracted but now he was level with Tony’s crotch he could very easily make out the bulge. Tony unzipped his slacks and pulled out his cock. 

"Get me off, and you can go."

Peter wanted to cry. "Tony -" He clutched at himself and whimpered loudly. "I can't, please -"

Tony simply stood unmoving and quickly Peter gave in. He took hold of the shaft and slipped Tony’s cock into his mouth, sucking frantically and noisily, not caring if anyone heard him. He bobbed his head up and down at a fevered pace, his lips stretched around his length but Peter had to pull back. He knew he wasn’t going to make it. His face was screwed up in pained desperation as he leaned to rest his forehead against Tony’s hip.

"Please, Tony," he whined, erring on the side of a sob. “I really…”

"Just go then."

"I can't, not in these." 

Peter was in the most expensive clothing he'd ever owned. He didn't care if Tony could just buy more, he'd feel the shame of having ruined them just because he couldn't hold it in.

"Come on, baby, you want to, don't you?" Tony said softly.

Peter nodded, a pained expression on his face.

"Just let go. Wet yourself."

Peter trembled violently and it sounded so simple, so easy, and then...Then he just did it. He just let go. Profound relief overcame him as warm piss began soaking through his underwear and trousers. He let out an almost ecstatic sigh before shame filled him at the sight of the puddle slowly forming beneath him. He looked up at Tony nervously. He couldn't stop, but it had reached Tony’s shoes and he felt a spark of guilt.

"Shh," Tony said, petting Peter's hair. "It's alright."

Peter nodded and rode it out until there was nothing left. A kind of dizzying euphoria came over Peter and as Tony guided Peter back to his cock, Peter opened his mouth readily, relaxed and lost in relief. 

He wasn’t nearly as frantic this time. He teased the head with his tongue before taking more into his mouth. Sliding his lips along Tony’s shaft, Peter closed his eyes for a moment to savour the taste and the heaviness on his tongue. Opening them again, Peter raised his gaze to meet Tony’s. Peter’s hands splayed over Tony’s upper thighs and took hold, now moving his head further forward to take more. Tony’s hand lightly brushed over Peter’s brown hair, an intense hungry expression on his face.

It should have been humiliating, sucking Tony’s cock while kneeling in his own piss in a toilet cubicle, but in this state Peter didn't care. He just wanted Tony to feel good too.

Tony swore quietly and bit back a moan. Peter picked up pace and before too long Tony made a deep-throated grunt, spilling his come inside Peter's mouth in short bursts. Peter happily waited until he was done before swallowing readily. Tony murmured Peter's name just as he finished.

He slipped his cock from Peter's mouth and tucked himself away. 

"What do we do now?" Peter asked, uneasily getting to his feet. He grimaced at how his soaked pants clung to his legs.

"I made sure Happy brought a change of clothes," Tony replied as he fished out his phone from his pocket. 

Peter balked. "Happy? Does...does he know about..." He stopped, the horror of the idea making him speechless.

Tony shrugged. "He doesn't ask questions."

Tony’s thumbs moved quickly over the phone screen. He looked up at Peter after he'd finished. His expression softened. "Happy and I don't talk about my extracurricular exploits. Seriously, after all the years we've been together he's learned that there's such a thing as knowing too much." 

Peter made a thoughtful noise, not entirely happy with the answer. Tony’s phone pinged and it looked back at it. "Happy's here. I'll get your stuff and then we can go back."

Peter nodded. Tony stepped past Peter - avoiding the puddle - and exited the cubicle. The absurdity of it all wasn't lost on him as he stood in his own piss. Belatedly he felt bad about the janitor who'd have to clean it up. He knew Tony would laugh at him if asked to do it himself.

Tony came back quickly and Peter slid out of his now cold and clinging pants and underwear and changed into the new ones. He put his soaked ones in a plastic bag and left the stall. Tony shot Peter a grin as Peter left the stall.

He gestured to Peter. “See? Good as new.”

“Yeah.”

“Now let’s get out of here.”

Peter nodded and the pair walked out together.


End file.
